The news came like thunder across the Hidden Cloud Village.
The First Raikage slammed his hand against the strategy table, his sharp eyes scanning the horrified faces of the council. "Our first and second defense lines were destroyed overnight?!"
The intelligence officer kneeling below him trembled. "Y-yes, Lord Raikage. The Akatsuki forces attacked under the cover of night. Their assault was coordinated and devastating. The entire line... was wiped out."
For a long moment, the tent was silent except for the rustling of paper and the faint crackle of lightning outside. Then—
"War!" The Raikage's voice exploded like thunder.
"War! We will make the Akatsuki pay in blood for this!"
The shout echoed through the chamber as the noble clans of Kumogakure erupted in rage. Over a thousand ninja had died—sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters of every major family in the village. The grief quickly twisted into fury.
The First Raikage stood tall, lightning aura flickering faintly across his shoulders. "The Akatsuki think they can strike at Kumogakure and walk away unpunished? Then let them drown in the storm they've summoned! Mobilize every able-bodied ninja—prepare for total war!"
Within two days, thousands of elite Hidden Cloud ninja had gathered along the third defensive line, ready to fight under the Raikage's direct command. The mountainous terrain was filled with the sound of hammering armor, clashing weapons, and the sharp scent of ozone that accompanied the Raikage's chakra.
What followed was pure carnage.
In rocky forests, on misty lakeshores, and through the dense thickets of the borderlands—battle after battle raged. For nearly a month, the sky over the battlefield remained stained with ash and blood. Even seasoned jonin, veterans of countless missions, perished silently amidst the chaos.
In a dimly lit command tent deep in Akatsuki territory, Uchiha Makoto sat over a spread of war reports, his expression cold and unreadable.
"Damn it," he muttered, fingers tightening around the parchment. "The Cloud forces are far more persistent than anticipated."
Across from him, a candle burned low, casting long shadows that danced over the maps and blood-marked territories.
The Hidden Cloud ninja fought like madmen—driven by vengeance, seemingly unafraid of death. Their attacks were reckless, but terrifyingly effective. They knew the terrain intimately, using ambushes and hit-and-run tactics to harass Akatsuki forces day and night.
Even the best-trained Akatsuki squads suffered heavy casualties.
Each engagement came at a cost. Though the Akatsuki had prepared for months—amassing supplies, refining tactics, and forging specialized Exploding Tags—the Kumogakure's sheer aggression kept the casualty ratios nearly even.
Makoto frowned as he calculated.
"The loss ratio used to be one Akatsuki to every one and a half Cloud ninjas…" He exhaled through his nose. "Now it's nearly one to one. Their suicidal methods are closing the gap."
On paper, Akatsuki's numbers still looked favorable. Their equipment was superior, their coordination unmatched—but numbers meant little against unrelenting ferocity. Kumogakure's forces were vast, and they seemed ready to burn themselves out just to take the Akatsuki with them.
A sudden voice broke the heavy silence.
"Makoto, you've been staring at that report for hours."
Vortex Shinji walked in, holding two steaming bowls of ice cream. The air outside was unbearably hot, the sun turning even steel helmets into miniature furnaces.
He grinned faintly, handing one bowl to Makoto. "Take a break. You won't outthink the Raikage on an empty stomach."
Makoto accepted it with a sigh, setting the report aside. The sweet chill of the first bite helped clear his head.
"Shinji," Makoto said after a pause, "the Kumogakure's attacks are slowing down. Their initial madness is fading. Maybe they've started to realize the cost of their approach."
Shinji nodded, spooning ice cream lazily. "Exactly. They were fierce at first, but that intensity can't last. Our men are adapting to their ambush patterns. Once the shock wears off, the advantage shifts back to us."
He gestured toward a nearby map. "Look here—their last five attempts all failed to break through the perimeter. They're running out of new tricks."
Makoto studied the map. Indeed, many of the regions where the Cloud ninja had launched surprise attacks were now heavily fortified with Exploding Tags. The Akatsuki had essentially turned the battlefield itself into a minefield.
If the Cloud wanted to strike again, they'd pay in blood.
For a while, the two men sat in companionable silence, listening to the faint rumble of distant thunder. Then Makoto spoke again, quieter this time.
"For this war," he said, "I made every preparation possible. The blitz strategy at the start, the destruction of their supply lines, even forcing the Raikage to commit early… all of it was part of the plan."
Shinji raised an eyebrow. "And yet you're uneasy."
Makoto nodded slightly. "Because even a perfect plan changes when blood is spilled."
The First Raikage had reacted faster than expected. After losing two defensive lines, he had immediately gathered forces for a decisive counterstrike. If not for Akatsuki's early advantage, things might have turned disastrous.
Still, Makoto suspected something deeper.
The Hidden Cloud's logistics must be in crisis.
"Their first and second lines stored most of their supplies—food, weapons, Exploding Tags, everything." Makoto tapped the map thoughtfully. "When we wiped them out, they lost their stockpiles. The Raikage's decision to rush troops to the third line without rebuilding logistics… that's desperation."
"So that's why their attacks are so wild," Shinji mused. "They're gambling everything on a quick breakthrough before starvation sets in."
Makoto nodded. "Exactly. He wants to expose a weak point in our defense, force a decisive battle, and end the war before their supplies run dry."
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the tent. "But the longer this drags on, the worse it becomes for them. Their Byōganmaru rations are already showing up in captured supplies. That's a food substitute meant for emergencies."
Shinji's eyes narrowed. "So if we hold steady for another month or two…"
"The victory will be ours," Makoto finished.
The Akatsuki's morale remained high. Their soldiers were well-fed, rested, and confident. The difference in logistics was night and day.
While the Cloud ninja chewed tasteless rations in the mud, the Akatsuki dined on fresh rice, miso soup, and roasted meat. Every meal ended with dessert—sometimes even ice cream, courtesy of the team's Ice Release ninja.
It was almost ironic. The organization that had once been a shadowy terror of the ninja world was now disciplined, methodical, and self-sustaining.
Makoto smirked faintly. "You know, Shinji, the Akatsuki we built is nothing like the chaotic one from the past."
Shinji chuckled. "That's because you lead like a general, not a criminal. Even your enemies can't deny your discipline."
The compliment earned only a shrug. "Discipline without results is meaningless. The Raikage's still standing."
After a moment, Makoto's expression darkened. "And then there's Konoha."
Shinji tilted his head. "Konoha?"
Makoto set his empty bowl aside and rubbed his temple. "I sent a messenger. Senju Tobirama's reply was... diplomatic. He claims they're 'preparing military supplies.' But I doubt he'll actually send aid."
Shinji frowned. "That man's too cunning to waste troops helping us. He's waiting to see who bleeds first."
"Exactly." Makoto's eyes gleamed dangerously. "He'll stay quiet, then swoop in to pick up the pieces when both sides are exhausted. That's the Senju way."
There was silence again. Only the rhythmic drumming of rain on the tent roof filled the space.
Finally, Shinji sighed. "Then what will you do about Konoha?"
Makoto's tone turned cold. "If they won't come willingly, we'll make them turn on each other."
He stood and walked toward the tent flap, the stormlight casting his shadow long and sharp. "It's time to sow distrust between the Uzumaki and Konoha. The alliance they built will crumble under pressure. The Uzumaki may be proud, but they're still human—they won't tolerate being treated as expendable tools."
Shinji looked at him, realization dawning. "You're going to make Konoha's ally question their loyalty."
Makoto smirked. "Exactly. If I can turn their allies against them, Konoha will find itself isolated before the next war even begins."
The wind howled outside, carrying the faint scent of iron and ozone.
Makoto's crimson Sharingan flickered to life, glowing faintly in the darkness. "In the end, Shinji," he said softly, "no one wins by playing fair in this world. The strong write the rules. The weak... just bleed on the pages."
He stepped outside, the storm lashing against his cloak. The battlefield stretched far into the distance—fires burning, thunder roaring, and the faint glimmer of lightning reflecting off puddles of blood.
For the world of shinobi, this was only the beginning of another endless cycle of hatred and ambition.
And for Uchiha Makoto, it was the perfect stage.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)